


The Boys Are Back in Town

by Zandra_Court



Series: bb!verse-Zandra Interpretation [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, bb!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9126130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: The Witch's Curse is finally over and our angels are adult once more...well technically.Cas has to figure out his place in the world and in Dean's life. It's been a long 7 years since the angels were cursed into small children and everyone has adjustments to make.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Friggin' Witches](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/251875) by vickjawn. 



> This is the final part of my bb!verse series, which is all based on vickjawns now defunct comics. I hope I took it somewhere she approves of. Thank-you for the inspiration.
> 
> This fic is Rated M, which is different from the other two parts. That's because the angels are grown up now, so they talk about grown up things. The non-con/underage warnings are due to Dean talking about his memories, not due to actual acts happening to any of the characters, but I wanted the warning so readers would know that those issues were talked about.

They were askin' if you were around  
How you was, where you could be found  
Told 'em you were livin' downtown  
Drivin' all the old men crazy  
~The Boys are Back in Town, _Thin Lizzy_  


Sheriff Jody Mills glanced back at the three young men sitting sullenly in the back of her squad car, letting her motherly compassion well up for a moment. It had been a rough seven years on all of them, beginning with a witch’s curse that hit all three of the powerful angels, regressing their ages to toddlers. In the first few years, while Bobby and the Winchesters searched high and low for a spell that would undo the ancient magick, the boys had lived out their childhoods in relative obscurity at the old Singer Junk Yard. Homeschooled by Sam, they spent their summers traipsing through the prairie grass and their winters driving each other bat-shit crazy. Given Gabriel’s tendency to mess with everyone, especially Sam and Castiel, it was a miracle of fate that he’d managed to stay out of the legal system as long as he had.

Truth was, the young angels might never have ended up with a record if it wasn’t for Cas trying to “help” when they had finally found a spell worth trying. That attempt had been frustratingly delayed due to the three boys needing to present before court on assault charges. She had done what she could, but thanks to Bobby’s reputation as a drunk and the Winchester’s apparent lack of any kind of job or income, the three had been ordered into foster care until one of the adults was deemed fit to care for them.

Jody had agreed to take them in, though they only lived with her during the school week and spent all weekends and holidays at Bobby’s. Dean had gotten a job at Wilson’s Auto Shop and Sam had started to clerk for a lawyer in Sioux Falls. That was 18 months ago and now the boys had just made their final appearance before juvenile court and were no longer considered on probation. Sam, with the help of the lawyer he worked for, had been awarded custody of the boys, so they were heading back to Bobby’s for the last time. She felt a twinge of loss as she drove. Yes, they made her crazy, especially Gabe with his sassy mouth and penchant for pushing **exactly** the buttons that were gonna make his brothers see red. The angels could also be funny and sweet. Balthazar had taken to cooking, asking her to teach him how to make fried chicken with just a right amount of spice, and triple chocolate brownies. Cas was the kindest to her, cuddling and talking to her, reminding her so much of her son sometimes that she would have to turn away or burst into tears. The pothole she’d forgotten to miss snapped her out of her reverie as she turned down the long dirt road that led to Bobby’s. 

“You OK Jody?” Cas had leaned forward, his face close to the wire grill that separated the back of the car from the front.

“You betcha Cas. You boys must be excited to be home.” Her well-practiced placating smile didn’t fool Castiel, who was now as good at reading the friendly though seasoned Sheriff as he was at reading Sam or Dean.

“You have been a great mom. We are all very grateful to you.” He leaned back enough to kick at his brothers.

“Oh, yeah, you’re a swell mommy.” Gabe snarked.

“And you’re not so bad for a juvenile delinquent either.” 

“As mum’s go, you’re as best as we could hope for. Though honestly, I’m just anxious to not be a fucking child any longer.” Balthazar was twitching like he could almost taste the whisky that he would shoot the instant he was no longer 13.

“Language.” Jody laughed.

“You know I love you Sheriff, but as soon as the spell is over, I’m flying to London to get pissed and find some bint to shag myself sore with and there’s not a damn thing any of you wankers can do to stop me.”

“Nice to know this experience has taught you something, Balthy.” Gabe snided.

“Toss off.” Balthazar rolled his eyes, proving that he wasn’t so Brit as to not pick up a few habits from American middle school.

“Since you like to watch…” Gabe made like he was gonna pull down his zipper.

“Enough, boys! Jesus!” Jody shook her head. This she was definitely _not_ gonna miss. OK, maybe a little.

The squad car rolled to a stop behind the ’67 Impala parked in front of Bobby’s. “Dean’s home!” Cas shouted as he scrambled over Gabriel towards the door.

“Shit, Cas, don’t blow your load. Jode’s gotta open the door from the outside.” Gabriel started punching Cas in the belly. Not hard, but enough for it to hurt a little. “Quit wagging your tongue over Dean. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Take that back!” Cas started to hit back, but Gabe had his right arm pinned behind him and he couldn’t get any leverage with his left. The door opened and both boys fell out of the car, arms swinging and landing any blows they could. Gabriel rolled his much larger 15 year old vessel until he was on top of Cas, hitting his brother’s arms and torso.

Cas hollered, “Get off!”

“You started it, Cassie!” Gabe kept hitting until he felt a hand on the back of his shirt lifting him up and slamming him against the squad car, knocking the air out him. His eyes went wide as he felt a strong forearm against his throat.

“And I’m gonna finish it you fucking pissant.” Dean’s face was full of rage. “You wanna beat on something? Let’s go. Huh? You don’t wanna punch all of a sudden? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Gabe’s eyes hardened. “He’s my brother, not yours. Step off Winchester.” The pressure at his throat increased and the angel was reminded that in his current form, Dean could really hurt him, so he looked away, conceding.

“Dean.” Jody’s voice registered and he felt the testosterone rush fading. He stepped back, letting Gabriel storm off. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that. You can’t get physical with the boys. I’ve told you that.”

Dean looked at her guiltily. She had and he knew she was right. But knowing didn’t keep his own upbringing from rising to the surface at times. John Winchester never took the time to “talk it out” or count to ten, unless he was counting off smacks across his backside. Dean’d hated it then, but the fact was, sometimes the only thing that ended violence was a little more violence. It wasn’t right. Not right at all. But they weren’t exactly living normal lives. 

Turning to the youngest of the two boys still standing there he asked, “What did you start Cas?”

Cas wouldn’t look at him and muttered, “Nothing.”

“Sure as hell didn’t look like nothing.”

Balthazar stepped in, “It was just a long car ride after a long day mate. Too much pent up energy is all.” Balthazar reached out to hook a finger in Cas’ shirtsleeve and pulled him away. 

None of them talked about Cas’ attachment to Dean because they knew it had nothing to do with his age or the spell. Gabe had a harder time with it because as an archangel, it was his duty to fell any angel that disobeyed or dared to be in love with a human. That Cas had long ago pretty much felled himself over Dean Winchester didn’t matter; Gabe still carried the prejudice.

“Cas?” 

“Forget it Dean. Alright?” Cas turned and followed Balthazar into the house, holding is harm against his side where Gabriel had gotten some good blows in. He knew he was gonna be purple, which meant he had to take care to hide them at school or a teacher might call Jody.

Dean shook his head. He just had no clue what to do with them sometimes. 

“Cas was a little over-excited that you were home is all.” Jody rested her hands on her gun belt, tilting her head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Dean threw his hands up.

“Nothing. But Cas’ crush on you bothers the other two. They ignore it most of the time, but sometimes it boils over.”

“Cas’ crush? What the hell are you talking about.” Dean started digging his keys from his pocket and walked over to Baby’s trunk.

“Don’t play dumb with me Dean. I’ve seen you gently enforcing boundaries with Cas to keep things appropriate. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Dean lifted the hood and propped it up with a rifle. “Cas just doesn’t know how things are. He’s soft, y’know. He doesn’t understand that you can’t just hug and kiss everyone.”

“He totally understands, Dean. The only person he pushes boundaries with is you.” Jody watched as he dug through each duffel, tossing them aside. “You gonna keep pretending to look for something you don’t need or are we gonna talk about this?”

He placed his hands on the edge of the trunk. “He’s a little kid Jody.”

“He is. And you’ve treated him as if he was a child ever since the curse. But you didn’t always treat him as a child.” She paused. “Y’know…before.” She hadn’t seen it herself, but the way Dean was avoiding eye contact meant her suspicions were true; Dean had felt more than friendship for Cas when he was in his fully angelic form.

“Has it been difficult? Dealing with him like this?” She asked quietly.

Dean turned and sat on the trunk edge. “Not really. He needed me to be a dad, so I was one. Yeah, he treated me different, clung to me more, but we do have this…uh, he calls it a ‘profound bond’. So I chalked his preference up to that. As he’s gotten older…well sometimes it felt like he was using the innocence of childhood to sit on my lap and stuff…things the other boys didn’t ever ask to do. So I would pull away or slid him over a little when he sat next to me. Y’know, just subtle things.”

“Those were the right things to do.” Jody nodded. “But what’s gonna happen if this spell doesn’t work? He’s rapidly approaching puberty.” 

“I know. Once Gabriel started needing to shave a few months ago, I realized what was coming.” Dean’s face a picture of pained confusion, he said, “If it doesn’t work, he’s gonna have to live with you.”

She nodded her head a little and said, “Well, let’s cross that bridge when we get there. My guess is that he won’t be super-jazzed about that idea. He’s tolerated being at my place well enough, but he asks all the time if he can head over to the shop or over here. He’s not content when he’s not with you. And once he’s a bit older, I won’t be able to make him stay away.”

“So I’ll just have to convince him. For now, it’s way too quiet in there.” Dean stood up, lowered the rifle and closed the trunk.

&&&&&&&&&

“The virgin blood’s a bit old now. Do you think that will matter?” Sam asked the young woman with copper-colored hair on his computer screen.

“It might decrease the potency of the spell, but not the process.” She was flipping through a book like she was looking for something.

“What does that mean? That it’d wear off or something?”

The woman brushed a strand of hair behind her ear distractedly. “No, but it might take more juice on your end. That’s why I’m reading through it. See, many basic spells can be cast by anyone with soul-energy. Others, you have to be able to draw on earth-energy. That’s what makes you and me different.”

Sam smiled slightly. “You mean that’s what makes you a witch and me just some dumb hunter.”

She looked up, alarmed. “I didn’t say that! Believe me Sam, you’re more than a dumb hunter. But some of us were born to be watchers and others were born, well, to be more. And you’re as skilled as any Watcher I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t know about that. And in America, we’re called hunters.” He laughed lightly as he watched her get engrossed in reading again. They’d Skyped a few times over the last year and he always enjoyed talking to her. And he’d learned a great deal about the world of the supernatural beyond the United States. She’d told him once that she’d grown up in Southern California, but he never had asked her how she ended up in England. “Say, how did you…”

The book she was reading slammed shut, “OK, I can compensate for the old blood. But to do that, I gotta juice you up a little.”

“What exactly does that entail?” Sam asked warily.

“Nothing bad. I just give you some of my ability. It’s probably gonna be the wildest high you’ve ever had, which means it can be a problem if you have addictive tendencies. Do you?”

Sam stared at his laptop puzzled, “Do I what?”

“Addiction. Do you have a problem with addiction?”

He thought that compared to Dean, he sure didn’t, but he could still drink harder than most hunters. Did that make him addicted? And he decided that demon blood didn’t count because he certainly wasn’t gonna tell her about _that_. “I don’t think so.”

Her mouth twitched to one side. “Hmm, OK. Look, if you find yourself wanting this again, your first call is to me, got that? You promise?”

“Wanting what again? I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, Sam, but you will and this is important. If anything, and I mean ANYTHING, changes for you or you feel…anything, I’m your first call. Promise me or your angels are staying kidlets, understand?”

“Yeah, alright, I understand. You’re scaring me though.”

“Good. Alright, carry your laptop outside. Under a tree is best.”

“OK.” Sam gave her a strange look, but did as she asked.

“Oh!” She shouted. “Bring the cauldron of ingredients!” 

“Right.” Sam nodded dumbly. They were trying to do the spell after all.

A few moments later, Sam was leaning against an old weeping willow tree, the cauldron between his outstretched legs and the laptop on the ground next to him. The camera the top at the of screen could only capture his face, the rest of the screen filled with the tree behind him.

“Did you pick that tree on purpose?” She asked with a smile.

“Uh, yeah. Is that bad?”

“No.” She was blushing a little. “It actually might, um, never mind. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be I guess.” He had memorized the incantation over the last year and a half, reading it often so that when the time came, he could put all his concentration into it. _When it comes to magick, you have to mean it._ she’d once said to him during one of their long Skype sessions.

“Alright. Place your left hand at the base of the tree, where the bark meets earth. When you feel it, start the incantation, stirring with your right hand.”

“What will I feel? How will I know?”

“Trust me, Sam, you’ll know.”

“OK.” He did as she said, placing his large hand on the ground, the side of his pinkie pushed flush against the willow tree bark.

“Here we go.” He could see in his screen that she had moved outside onto some expanse of grass and there was an old brick building behind her. Then he felt his hand suck towards the earth and his hand and arm buzzed warmly. He began reciting and stirring, but by the third word, his whole body had come alive with energy and endorphins, like he was running full tilt and fucking his brains out at the same time. His mind became awashed in serotonin and he stuttered the incantation as he felt his cock grow harder than it had ever been. He could hear her whispering the incantation too, which helped him keep reciting through the building orgasm and drug high that was climbing and he knew it would have to top out sometime. His entire being crawled after it, willing it to last. The cauldron boiled and foamed a bright azure, then emerald. He kept stirring, increasingly fast and longing to rub a hand against his pulsing cock, but he had none to spare. He knew he was reaching the end of the spell, but he didn’t want it to be over…he still needed more…

A large bubble exploded out of the cauldron and some of mixture landed on his stirring hand. It burned and he felt a hard pull within his belly as he came, semen flooding the front of his boxer-briefs and jeans. He felt the energy drain through every vein and pore, like it was rushing to return to the earth from whence it came. Panting he slumped back against the tree and glanced at the laptop screen. Her hair was bright white, but quickly returning to red and she was breathing just as hard as he was.

“Oh my God.” He croaked. 

“Goddess” she corrected, smiling. "But yeah.” Her breathing was returning to normal more quickly than his was. His whole body felt spent and listless. “Been a while since I did that with a dude. You just had to pick a willow tree.” She was shaking her head, laughter dancing in her eyes. “What color is the potion?”

Sam rolled his head and looked at his hand. Thick, amethyst-colored ooze dripped from his thumb. “Uh, purple, I think.” He tilted the screen down so the camera caught his hand. From this angle, she could also see the front of his pants.

“Yeah, OK, it’s fine. And sorry about the, uh, y’know.”

“Does real magick always feel like this?” He now understood why she made him promise that he would contact her before looking for this again.

“Pure magick can. Then you sat under the willow tree and I was pretty sure you were headed to Ejaculation City.” She was now blushing as red as her hair.

“You could have warned me.” He joked. Not that he was complaining. At all. “But I don’t get why the tree mattered.”

“My name. The Goddess has a sense of humor.”

Sam chuckled. “Hadn’t even thought about that. I picked it because it was the biggest tree in the yard.”

“Like I said. Sense of humor. You gonna be OK?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna be riding this wave for a while though.”

Her face grew concerned, “Remember your promise, Sam.”

“I will. I promise. Thank-you.”

“No biggie. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“You bet. Bye, Will.”

“Bye, Sam.” His screen went dark.

&&&&&&&

The desperate need to sleep had overcome Sam so hard after he’d ended the Skype call that he just closed his eyes right there under the tree. His dreams had been filled with bright lights, roots entangled, and lots of sex. When he woke up, he found that he’d come in his sleep and the warm, spring afternoon had shifted into cool evening. The fluid in the cauldron had cooled and stilled, forming a thick skin the top. He got up, surprised that his legs were still shaky, and went inside for a shower, hoping like hell he didn’t encounter Dean on the way in. He should have known that the Goddess wasn’t done having fun with him yet.

Entering the kitchen, he set the cauldron down on the table and turned just as Gabriel walked in the kitchen. 

“Shit, Samantha. What the hell happened to you?”

“Made the potion to cure your sorry ass is what.”

“Oh? What’s it…” Gabriel noticed the now giant stain at Sam’s crotch. “If you jizzed in it I am **not** drinking it.”

Sam sucked in an impatient breath. “There’s not…fuck, just get out of my way.” He knew he was growing an impressive blush of his own as he barreled passed the obnoxious teenager.

“Hey, ain’t my fault you got your Mickey sticky.” Gabriel laughed, pulling a cherry Lifesaver from his pocket and popping it in his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up Gabriel.” Sam called behind him as he leaped up the stairs towards the bathroom two at a time.

Slamming the door shut and locking it, he turned on the faucet fully to hot and began to strip out of his clothes. He’d expected the semen to be a bit chunky and dried because this was hardly the first wet-dream experience he’d ever had. Instead, it was thick, smooth and pearly, almost like soap. When he touched it, it was warm on his fingers. Without even really thinking about it, he began stroking himself, the fluid a perfect lube. Unable to stop stroking, he kept going as he climbed into the hot shower, letting the spray wash over him as he leaned against the wall. His mind filled with images of women he’d had sex with; Jess, Ruby, Maya, even Becky, but even as they bled one into another, no image was enough. 

He thought about random porn films he’d seen, Cas’s pizza man and babysitter…everything was hot yet couldn’t sustain. He pumped his fist faster, chasing his own orgasm…closer…yet not…he thought of beautiful white hair, glowing bright but swore he heard a faint “tsk-tsk” and then his mind filled with the memories of a very adult Gabriel, bouncing through a fake door on a sit-com set, to cheers and raucous laughter. He heard Dean’s voice say “You might say I pulled it out of Sam’s ass.” He clenched his eyes, yet the image of himself bent over the edge of the bed filled his brain. He felt a hand smooth over his ass, not even realizing it was his own. He kept stroking with his right as his left slowing inserted itself behind him, long fingers reaching until they found the one spot…and his orgasm exploded, ropes of slick, thick discharge hitting the shower wall. He panted hard, taking in a lungful of steam. He hadn’t come anywhere near as hard as he had during the spell, but at least he’d come. 

His arms hung limply for a moment before he squeezed out some of the body soap in the shower and began to clean himself for real. As he washed his chest, legs and then his hair, he’d come down enough to think about what had just happened. He’d fantasized about being fucked for the first time ever. He knew enough about magick to know that messing with it had consequences. Though as consequences go, having a sudden urge for cock wasn’t the worst he could think of. He thought about Will’s comment that it had been “a long time since I did that with a dude.” She was right, the Goddess had a sense of humor. It would be best if he didn’t take it too seriously. Or resist it too much. She’d tire of playing with him eventually.

&&&&&&&

“It looks disgusting.” Cas grimaced as Sam ladled some of the purple, yogurt-like potion into a glass. Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a witch’s brew, whaddya expect? They don’t exactly make Purple Nurples.”

“What’s a purple nurple?” Balthazar asked as he took a glass from Sam.

“Nevermind.” Dean waved him off and sat on the corner of the table where Bobby was seated.

“Just drink-up so you all can get back to normal and the hell out my house,” the craggy old man grumbled.

“Will said that the potion might take a while, and would probably hurt them less if they drank it and went to bed.” Sam offered as he poured the last of it into a glass he then handed to Gabriel.

“Can’t you at least give us a whisky chaser?” His eyebrows waggled and Sam was suddenly remembering adult Gabriel again. 

Coughing distractedly, Sam turned away quickly. “Uh, no. No we can’t. It will interfere with the magick.”

“Alright then. Bob’s your uncle.” Balthazar raised his glass and then drank it down in one swallow. He looked at his brothers, who were both just staring at him. “Well come on then. I’m not your fucking guinea pig. Drink up.”

Gabriel held out his glass to clink against Castiel’s. “Bottom’s up Little Bro.” and he took a swig.

“L’chaim” Cas offered as he drank too.

Everyone in the kitchen stated at each other, waiting for something to happen.

“Well that was a little anti-climatic.” Bobby gruffed. 

Suddenly, Cas doubled over. “Cas!” Dean shouted and ran to his side. The boy groaned and collapsed to the floor. “Sammy! What the hell?!”

“Dean, calm down. Will said it might affect him the worst. He’s the least grown and has the most change to go through.”

“Oh and when were you gonna share **that** with the class, huh Sammy?” Dean had rounded on Sam, who had expected nothing less. His brother wasn’t exactly clear-headed where Cas was concerned.

“I didn’t know for sure and it wouldn't have mattered if you’d known before now anyway.” Cas let out another small scream and Dean pivoted, stooped to pick up the eleven-year old’s slight body and carried him upstairs. 

“I’m not feeling so great either.” Balthazar offered. "I agree with our witch friend that sleeping this off would be best."

Gabriel looked hesitantly from Sam to Bobby and back. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You will.” Sam offered. “Meanwhile, are you OK to look after Balthazar? I’ll clean up the cauldron and come check on you in a bit. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t strain yourself Samantha, “and he went to help his brother, who had paused on the bottom step. “Come on, Balthy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Twenty-five minutes later, Sam stood watching Gabriel and Balthazar sleeping. Cas wasn’t in the room, but he knew where he was, so he’d make that his next stop. The two angels didn’t look much different, though he thought Balthazar’s legs looked longer. He pulled the heavy quilt up over the two boys who were crashed out on the queen bed in the guest room. They both felt warm to the touch, but he didn’t expect it to get much worse. Willow had told him that the spell would put them in a kind of light coma while their bodies changed: Which was a great improvement over the painful screaming of the spell that had put them in this condition in the first place.

Dean was sitting in a chair, his legs resting on the foot of his bed, staring at nothing in particular when he heard the light rapping at his bedroom door. “C’mon in Sammy.” Dean spoke quietly.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s sweating something fierce.” Dean watched as Cas rocked slightly. 

“He’s not asleep?” Sam asked, puzzled. 

“Is he supposed to be?” Dean sat up, worried.

“Yeah. The spell is supposed to put them in a kind of coma while they transform.”

“So what does this mean?” Dean placed a hand on Cas’ leg rubbing gently. “Sammy?”

Sam snapped out of his thinky-thoughts. He’d been wondering if this was odd enough to call Will over. “Uh, I don’t know Dean. I think we should wait it out. I know that the spell had the most work to do on Cas because he hasn’t started puberty yet.” Sam put a hand to Cas’ forehead. The boy was warm, but not dangerously so. “Maybe get him some cold cloths and open your window to keep the air flowing. We’ll know more by morning.”

“Yeah, OK.” Dean stood up and went into the small bathroom that attached to his room. 

“Come get me if he gets much worse, but really, this should be as rough as it gets.”

“I hope you’re right.” Dean was placing the cloth on Cas’ face, who moaned as he turned into the cool touch.

“Me too.” Sam pulled the door around behind him as he left.

&&&&&&&

“It hurts Dean.” Cas whimpered as he curled in on himself. It was now 3am and the angel had cycled through fits of fever and sharp pain as Cas’s bones lengthened at a speed human bones were never meant to grow and his muscles were stretched and pulled tight.

“I know, Buddy. I know. Where now?”

“My back hurts the worst. And my legs.”

“Okay. Does this help?” Dean started kneading the muscles of Cas’ lower back gently with his fingers.

“A little, yeah.” Cas had run out of tears but his face showed all the pain he was enduring. “The heat helps too.” Dean had gotten an electric heating pad when Cas first started complaining about the muscle pain.

“I know it’s hard, but try to relax if you can. Breathe slowly.” Dean’s fingers continued to massage Cas’ lower back, working along the muscle grain as if he was pushing out pie crust, willing the fibers to elongate with his touch in hopes of easing the pain. Cas’ breathing slowed and his keening quieted.

“There you go, easy now.” His voice was low and soft.

“Talk to me, Dean.”

“About what?”

“Anything. It distracts me.” Cas’ body was slowly uncurling as he un-clenched, the pain still a constant ache and only a tiny move away from shrieking through his body, but right now, he could focus on Dean’s fingers and deep, resonant tone.

“Uh, OK. Well, I guess I can talk about how this isn’t the first time in my life I’ve had to do this.”

Cas turned his head slightly to look at Dean. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, well not exactly like this, but kinda. When Sammy was growing up, he had a summer where where he grew, like 6 inches in just a matter of weeks. We’d settle down for bed and he would sometimes start to cry from how much his bones hurt. See, when he was walking around and distracted, he didn’t notice it as much. But when we’d lay down, that’s when he’d feel it. So I would rub his back as a way of distracting him enough that he could sleep. It kept him quiet because if Dad came home and Sam was crying or upset, I’d typically get smacked a little for not taking better care of him.”

“Your dad would hit you if Sam was crying?” Cas knew that John Winchester had been a pretty terrible father to the boys, but he was always amazed when he heard these snippets from Dean.

“He wouldn’t like punch me or anything. It was more that he had a really short fuse, so if he came in and Sam was upset or we were fighting, he’d grab me, maybe throw me against the wall, maybe slap me if he thought I wasn’t telling the truth…It wasn’t bad really. I just learned that if I could keep Sammy happy and cared for, it was easier on everyone. And Sam tried to present a good face when Dad came home. He could have pushed me under the bus so many times if he wanted, but never did. That didn’t mean he and I didn’t fight like hell when we knew Dad would be gone for a while. One time, when Sam was about 16, we got into it bad. Over a box of doughnuts, if you can believe it. I’d eaten more than my share and Sammy got pissed, like he’d been saving the doughnut to eat that evening or some dumb shit that I didn’t care about but he really did. That was often what set us off; those things he cared about that I could give two shits for. Guess that hasn’t really changed.” Dean’s voice trailed off as he thought about how the kind of things he and Sam would still fight over. A groan from Cas brought him out of his reverie. 

“Not important now, nevermind.” Dean resumed his focused massage and kept talking. “He tackled me and by this time, he was as tall as me so he was getting some good licks in. I knew that I needed to put him down or things were gonna go bad. I couldn’t have him start disobeying me when Dad was gone. 

“Sam was never a bad kid, but he could be stupid about life and get himself into situations because he wasn’t thinking. Or he was thinking about the wrong stuff. Anyway, I started getting rough, more rough than I’d ever been with Sam before. Y’know, not pulling my punches, really hitting his arms and belly, which normally would hurt enough he’d surrender. But this time, he wasn’t gonna give. "We had this rule: no punches to the face. Black eyes and bruised cheeks meant calls from teachers and that wasn’t ever attention we could have. Sammy, though, he was so mad he didn’t care. Looking back, he wasn’t mad about the doughnut. He was mad about his life; moving around, changing schools, and having me boss him around all the time. He was sitting on top of me and grabbed my head and slammed it to the floor. I saw stars and suddenly, I wasn’t fighting Sammy anymore, I was just…surviving I guess. I flipped him over and punched his jaw, but he kneed my groin and then broke my nose. 

“The blood was what stopped him, I think. He started apologizing instantly, like he’d come back to himself. We helped each other clean up and soon realized that we looked pretty fucked up. Dad was gonna know something happened. We strategized what story we were gonna tell, but pretty much anything we could come up with was gonna get at least one us whupped. See, if told we Dad that someone had jumped us, I’d get it for either not taking care of Sam or for being stupid and not watching my back. If we said it was a monster, we’d get it for hunting, which we were forbidden from doing. Fighting at school wouldn’t fly because they’d have called him. We decided to just own it; that we’d gotten into a fight that went too far. And funnily enough, Dad wasn’t even upset. Instead he said, ‘Bout time you got some good licks in, Sammy.’ I thought it was cool. Until a week later.”

Dean hesitated and Cas rolled slightly. “What happened a week later?” 

Dean looked at Cas, but looked away quickly. He’d never told Sam this. It was one of the secrets he held tight. He motioned for Cas to roll over. He wasn’t sure he could tell it if someone was looking. “See, when Sam was in school, Dad would teach me stuff. Lore mostly, but also we’d shoot targets or practice sutures. Sometimes we’d work on Baby. That day, after Sam left, he grabbed the rifle bag and we headed out. We stopped off this rural road and headed back into some trees, when he suddenly stopped by a couple big trees which was no good for target practice. Typically, we would find a more open area and small, young trees to hang the targets from. He took off his coat and started to roll up his sleeves. I asked him, ‘What are we doing here?’ He started to unbuckle his belt and that’s when I knew.” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper now, though his fingers kept working Cas’ back, lost in his story. Cas was frozen, listening.

“It never occurred to me to fight him. Not like it occurred to Sammy to fight me. I knew what was coming and that I would take it.” Tears were falling gently down his face now. “I was 21 years old and it still didn’t occur to me that my old man couldn’t whup my ass whenever he wanted to. I just stared at him and asked, ‘Why?’ 

‘You know why. Not only didn’t you take care of Sam properly, you let him bust your face. I don’t know which is more pathetic.’ He told me to put my hands on the tree, and I did it. He undid my fly, yanked my jeans and underwear down to my knees, and beat my ass raw with his belt. And I let him.” Dean swallowed a sob and shook as he regained control of himself.

Cas rolled over and sat up a little, propping himself on his elbow. “You never told me about that one.” Following Cas’ own experience with the belt, one he knew he fully deserved and even asked for, Dean had told him several stories about times he’d been whupped as a way of making Cas feel better. But this hadn’t been one.

Dean wiped his tears and sniffed. “Yeah, well, that’s one I try really hard to forget.” Cas sat up more and wrapped his arms around Dean, drawing him in. “I’m so sorry.” Dean returned the embrace, allowing himself to feel the warmth of Cas’ body and gave way to his own painful memory, crying softly. 

After a moment, Dean broke the embrace, putting his hands on the side of Cas’ face. “How are you? I’m the one who’s supposed to be comforting you.” Dean looked at the young man’s face. He was looking more and more like the Cas he remembered, though he still had some baby fat on his cheeks. Cas’ eyes were exactly the same though. Cas gave a shiver as he stared back. 

“I’m ok. Sleepy mostly.”

“Then lay down you dork.” Dean smiled at him and shifted so he could help Cas get under the blankets. Once he was settled, Dean started to get off the bed. 

“Stay. Please. At least until I fall asleep?”

The thought that he shouldn’t fleeted through his mind, but if Cas was hurting, Cas got what he asked for. “Sure thing, Buddy.” Dean laid down next to Cas, and lightly rubbed his shoulder. It wasn’t more than a few moments before they were both asleep.

&&&&&&&

“Yo, Samantha. Wake up.” Gabriel poked Sam hard in the abdomen. “Let’s go Sleeping Beauty.”

“Wha…what time is it?” Sam blinked against the early rays of sunshine flooding his room.

“I don’t know.” Gabriel sneered, “Seven or eight o’clock probably. Who gives a fuck? Look!” He moved his hands up and around his face like he was Vanna White showing off a new letter.

Sam looked at him puzzled. Gabriel didn’t look that much different than he had the day before. A bit taller, broader shoulders, and his face was thin and bright. He was definitely the adult Gabriel he remembered, but far less…mature? No crow’s feet at his eyes, his face far smoother than it would be after 15 years of shaving… “You look like you’re 17 or 18.”

“I KNOW! Isn’t it great? I feel like it too. Like I could head down to the high school, find the hottest cheerleader, and ride her for days.” Gabriel thrust his hips back and forth while making broad spanking movements with his hand.

“You’re disgusting, you know that. And trust me, you may be young, dumb and full of come, but you’re still nowhere hot enough to bag a sexy cheerleader, so give it up.” Sam threw the covers back and got out of bed. “How did Balthazar and Cas turn out?” Sam grabbed his flannel off the bedpost and pulled it on.

“Balthy’s pretty much the same as me, but way more Twinkish. Haven’t seen Cas yet. He end up in Deano’s bed after all?”

“Why does everything out of your mouth sound like an innuendo?”

“Hellllooo. Barely legal.” Gabriel was drawing a circle around his face with his finger. “When was the last time you met a college freshman who **didn’t** think about sex 24/7?”

“Fair enough. But keep your thoughts to yourself or I’ll ball you so hard you won’t get it up for a month.”

“Sheesh Samantha. You wanted to touch my junk, all you had to do was ask.” Gabriel’s eyebrows waggled.

“Just…” Sam put his hand up in front, “Fucking stop. Go find Bobby. I’m gonna check on Cas.”

Sam knocked lightly on Dean’s bedroom door. It was ajar, so the motion pushed it open further. He could see Dean, who had fallen asleep on top of the covers, his arm stretched over the top of the pillow next to him. There was a huddled mass under the covers with just a mop of short dark hair showing.

Clearing his throat he said, “Dean? Cas? You awake?” in a clear, loud voice.

The mound of blankets moved slightly then stilled. Dean rolled back, eyes blinking open. “Heya, Sammy?”

“Good morning. How’s Cas?”

Full awareness suddenly hit Dean and he sat up. “I don’t know. Cas? Cas?” Dean shook the mount where Cas’ shoulder should be. Next, he started to pull up the covers.

“Go away.” Cas gave a low shout as he grabbed the blankets back down and drew further into his makeshift cocoon.

Dean gave Sam a puzzled look. “How do the others look?”

“Not like I expected.” Sam said.

Worried now, Dean grabbed the comforter and pulled it way back. “What the fuck Dean?” Cas bellowed as he sat up and glared. Dean could only stare. The angel looking back at him was definitely grown up, but not like he remembered. He looked like Cas, but his face was so soft and pretty; skin firm and clear. His shoulders were broad and muscular, while his waist was very thin. Dean’s eyes traveled downward to see that Cas was sporting clear morning-wood and he blushed a little. Cas realized where he was looking and grabbed the blanket to cover himself. “Go away, Asshat. I’m still trying to sleep.” With that, Cas flopped face down and pulled the pillow over his head.

“What the hell?” Dean asked Sam, who shrugged his shoulders. “No really, what the hell, Sammy? The spell was supposed to put them back!” 

“I don’t know Dean. I texted Will. She’s gonna be able Skype in twenty minutes.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he got up. “Friggin’ witches!” And he stormed into his bathroom and shut the door.

Sam let that go. “Cas, Bobby’s making breakfast if you’re hungry.” A non-committal grunt came from the blanket-cocoon. “Suit yourself.” The shower turned on in Dean’s bathroom. “But you might want to be up before he gets out or you’re apt to get wet. He’s wicked with a cold water glass if you don’t get out of bed when he says. Trust me, I know.” Sam turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Cas entered the kitchen wearing a pair of Dean’s sweats and one of his moss-green t-shirts. Cas was still slightly shorter than Dean, but Sam realized he would need new clothes for his grown-up frame. Dropping into a chair, Cas started piling scrambled eggs and sausages onto his plate. Gabriel and Balthazar had already dug in and Bobby was busy trying to make more. Balthazar poured a cup of coffee from the pot that sat on the table and handed it to Cas. “Wake up rough there, Mate?”

“I feel like I’m hungover without the benefit of the party.” Cas muttered between forkfuls of fluffy eggs.

“Tell me about it.” Bobby said as he spooned the freshly cooked eggs from his pan into the bowl on the table. “I woke up to find myself suddenly RA of a fuckin’ frat house.”

“RA’s aren’t in the frat houses. Only the dorms.” Sam offered.

“Do I look like I care?” Bobby whined. “At least they’re grown enough to go find work and live anywhere but here.”

“Bobby, we know they’re grown, but we don’t know if they have their angel powers back.” He jumped back as Gabriel suddenly appeared right next to him, seated on the counter, close enough to whisper in Sam’s ear “We do” and then vanished, re-appearing back at the table, eating contentedly.

Sam shook himself a little. “Alright, they’re fine. I’m sure they will be on their way as soon as possible.” He gave Gabriel a pointed look. Hazel eyes simply twinkled back at him daringly.

“Point taken well, Samuel. Mr. Bobby, I do appreciate the care you’ve shown. I’d wish Dean farewell, but I doubt he’d care. Toodle-oo.” And Balthazar was gone.

“Well, that’s one down.” Bobby said.

“Aww, come on now, Samantha. Admit it, you’re gonna miss me.”

“Like a bad penny.” Sam snided, but then laughed. Gabriel was a first-class asshole, but he’d seen glimpses of what was really underneath, and not only in the past few years. He knew the bravado was mostly for show and to avoid letting people know how much he hurt inside. “I have a feeling you’re not gonna stay away forever.”

“I knew you were sweet on me.” Gabriel sassed. “See you around Cassie. Give Deano a blowjob for me.” Cas gave a jolt, nearly falling out of his chair and Gabriel vanished.

“Ignore him.” Sam said, sitting down next to Cas.

“If only.” Cas said, then his face got very puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Sam could tell something was up.

“I don’t…” he looked at Sam wide-eyed, then his face scrunched a little, like he was concentrating, then it he relaxed but panic clearly showed. “Oh, no. No. No. NO!” Cas stood up fast, bumping the table and knocking glasses over as he ran for the knife block.

“What the hell are you doing? Cas? What’s wrong?” Sam ran over but not before Cas could take out a paring knife and draw a slice across the back of his arm, blood oozing from the cut in a dark red line. Bobby grabbed the hand that held the knife and wrenched it free as Sam covered the wound with a towel. Cas fought them as he tried to swipe his hand over the wound, but only succeeded in smearing the blood around. “No! NO! NO!” Cas kept shouting. 

“Cas! Tell us! What is wrong?!” Sam was shaking him when Cas simply slumped to the floor.

“Sam.” Bobby had dropped with Cas, now holding the bloody towel to his arm. “Sam! Get the suture kit. Now.” Sam left and quickly returned with the kit. Cas’ face was clenched and he his cries of “No! No!” had settled into soft whispers.

“Better get him some whisky, son. I’m out of local and this is gonna need at least four stitches.” Sam nodded and reached into the liquor cabinet, grabbing the bottle and a highball glass. 

Setting the amber liquid in front of Cas he said, “Drink it fast. Then I’ll pour you another. You’ll need several shots.” 

Cas shook his head. “I don’t want any.”

“Stitches hurt like hell if you’re not numb, boy. Trust me, take the whisky.” Bobby was laying out suture thread and putting on gloves before opening the needle pack. The kit was getting low, so they were gonna need someone to take a turn as “Dr. Sexy” and steal some more from St. Andrews.

“Don’t want stitches either. Just leave me alone.” Cas started to make like he was gonna get up, but Sam pushed him down again.

“You cut yourself too deep to leave it open.”

“I said NO!” Cas started to struggle with both men who held him fast. 

“What the hell?” Dean hollered as he entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong Sammy? Why’s he bleeding?”

“He cut himself.” Sam grunted as he pushed Cas’ head to the floor while Bobby held on to the bleeding limb.

“Cas! Stop struggling right now!” Dean’s low command resonated with Cas, who stilled, breathing hard.

“Sam, get him up in a chair. It’ll be easier for me to sew him up and we can tie him to it if we have to.” Dean helped haul him up with one had in Cas’ armpit and the other controlling his wrist, trying to steer clear of the oozing wound. They got Cas seated and Dean squatted down in front of him. 

“Cas, what’s going on?” Cas refused to speak, instead hanging his head low, chin to chest. Dean looked to Sam for guidance. “Where are the other two?”

“They flew away.” Sam huffed, still keeping a strong arm around Cas’ chest, holding him to the chair.

Dean stood up, looking from Cas, to Sam, and then to Bobby. “I don’t understand. What happened? Did Cas piss ‘em off or something? Why’d they use an Angel Blade on him.”

“They didn’t. He cut himself with a paring knife. After they flew away.”

“Why on earth would he…” Dean’s face was awash in confusion.

“Dean, Cas can’t fly. And from the way this cut is bleeding, I’d guess he can’t heal himself either. The spell worked, but not totally.”

“Are you saying…Is he not an angel anymore? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Cas let loose a pained sob, as Bobby was trying to quell the bleeding. Dean squatted down again. “Cas? Look at me will ya?” Cas raised his head slightly, still unable to meet Dean’s eyes. “You gotta let Bobby stitch you up OK. This ain’t over, you hear me? If the spell wasn’t totally right, we’ll find another. Being human ain’t all bad. I’ve been one all my life and it’s only sucked about 95% of the time.” Cas gave a snort. “What kinda laugh was that? That deserved as least a chortle.” Dean was smiling and rubbing Cas’ thigh.

“No it didn’t.” Cas grumbled, but at least he was looking at Dean now.

“Alright, it didn’t. But I mean what I say. We’ll fix this. OK? But until you get your mojo back, you gotta let Bobby fix that arm, alright?” Cas nodded. Sam let go of him and went to pour another glass of whisky.

&&&&&&&

“Give me the filter wrench, will ya?” Dean hollered from under the Impala at Sam, who was leaning on the edge of the fender drinking a beer.

“That’s the sperm-shaped one right?” Sam asked, looking through the tool box on the ground at his feet.

A hand shot out by his ankle. “I guess that’s one way of describing it…if you’re a girl.” Sam slapped the wrench into the open palm with some force. Dean’s corresponding grunt gave him a satisfied smirk.

“Didn’t you change the oil two months ago?”

“No” came the muffled yet unconvincing reply.

“You know that someone doesn’t have to know you much at all to get that you avoid things by working on your car, right? Or you get drunk and hit things.”

The creeper rolled out suddenly as Dean dug through the tool box and wheeled back under again. “I really don’t need you Dr. Phil-ing me right now Sammy.”

“Hell you don’t. It’s been three weeks since the spell and you’ve had your nose buried in this damn car every day we aren’t hunting. Cas spends all his time in his room, listening to Fall Out Boy and Panic at the Disco. Have you even said more than three words to him this week?”

Dean slid out on the creeper once more and hauled himself up, wiping his hands on a rag. “What do you want me to do, huh? Rebel-Without-a-Clue I get, but what am I supposed to do with Mr. All-Black-Eyeliner?”

Sam crossed his arms, “Don’t be such an old man Dean. Cas is hurting and he needs you to help him.”

“Help him how Sammy? I can’t snap my fingers and get his angel mojo back! Cas’ body is, what 18-19 years old now, but he still remembers his old life. He knows what he was and what he isn’t now. He’s lost and depressed and I have no path for him.” Dean’s shoulder’s sagged. “I feel like I don’t even know him now.”

“ _That’s_ because you haven’t made an effort to, Dean. Cas is still Cas, but the only way he’s gonna find himself again is if you help him.”

“Why me? You’ve got way more experience with emo-teens seeing as you used to be one.”

Sam grimaced at the dig but held fast. “It has to be you because you’re the one who matters to him. You’re the one he counts on. You don’t think he’s noticed you avoiding him? Shit, I think his depression is mostly because of you avoiding him. Man up, Dean. Cas needs you.”

Dean just rubbed at the grease harder as Sam walked away.

 

Even from a floor up, the music blasted as Dean stopped outside of the door to the narrow staircase that led up to Cas’ room. With the other angels gone, he’d pretty much taken over the attic. He knocked hard a few times before banging his fist on the door and yelling, “Dammit, Cas, answer me!”

The music shut off and he heard an equally exasperated yell, “It’s open, Motherfucker!” Dean climbed the stairs quickly. 

“Watch your mouth.” He said has he topped out and stood next to the railing, taking in the scene. There were beer bottles strewn about, along with empty bags of chips. There were also scattered pieces of paper with sigils and fragments of Enochian written on them using various media. Dean stooped to pick one up. The paper was thick and the dark maroon color looked a lot like… “Did you draw this one in blood?” He glared accusingly at Cas.

For his part, Cas looked like hell. His too-small, black t-shirt highlighted the paleness of his skin and the thinness of his frame. His shaggy hair fell in greasy strings around his face and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in quite a while. The black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them look sallow. “It’s blood, but not mine”, he spoke softly, not looking at Dean.

“You look like shit, you know that? Smell like it too.”

“Who the fuck asked you, Asswipe?” Cas crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned against a rafter with defiance.

“I told you to watch your mouth.” Dean was getting majorly pissed now.

“No.”

The urge to smack Cas across the face welled in Dean and brought him up short. What was he gonna do? Beat Cas for being a smartass? That wasn’t him. It wasn’t them. The urge died as quickly as it rose. 

“Fine. You’re right. I’m not your dad and truth be told, wasn’t much good at it when I had that role anyway. But I’m tryin’ to talk to you here and it’s that much harder when you’re cussing at me and calling me names, OK?”

The fire seemed to have gone out of Cas too and his shoulder’s slumped. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Alright, good. But it really does smell like a locker room up here. How about you take a shower and we go for a drive huh?”

“OK.” Cas still wasn’t looking at him but he decided not to push it.

“Meet me downstairs in ten.” Dean made it about half way down the stairs when the music started up again.

 

They drove down some back roads outside of town, Led Zeppelin playing low on the radio. Since getting in the car, neither of them had said much of anything.

“If we’re just gonna drive around can we at least listen to different music?” Cas finally broke the silence.

“Since when do you not like Led Zeppelin?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Since I grew up and stopped liking things just because you do.” Cas replied sullenly.

“I think I liked you better then.” Dean snarled as he turned the radio off.

“I’ll bet you did. I worshiped you like a fucking puppy dog. So embarrassing.”

“Ouch, man. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You! You’re what’s wrong with me! I lost everything and you’re too much of a self-absorbed asshole to give a damn!” Cas ran his fingers through his unkempt hair and then clenched and unclenched his fingers.

“You’re sayin’ this is my fault? You’re the one who hid himself in his room for three weeks, blasting crap music and not talking to anyone. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

Cas sank lower in the car. “Clearly nothing.”

“Dammit, Cas, the sullen teenager thing is a pain in the ass. Would you just tell me what’s going on?”

Cas was silent for a long time. Dean was just about to make another exasperated plea when Cas finally spoke. “I can’t hear them.”

“Can’t hear them? Can’t hear who?”

“Anyone. God, the other Angels…you. It’s just…quiet.” As he turned away, Dean could see the faintest edge of tears.

“No more Angel Radio.”

“It’s actually been gone a long time. It went away with the spell. But with Gabriel and Balthazar right there, I'd adjusted. We all had. None of us liked not being able to hear each other, so we stayed close by, y’know. After we changed back, I was so used to it that I didn’t realize until Gabby left. He’d made a snide comment as he took off, so I’d thought my comeback. When he didn’t say anything back, I suddenly realized that while I’d aged, I still wasn’t an angel. I don’t even know what I am. I’m not sure I’m human even. What am I Dean?”

Dean’s heart ached with the weight of Cas’ sadness. “You’re Cas. No matter if you have wings or grace or powers…”

“I’m just a baby in a trench coat.” Cas finished. Dean grimaced at having his words from long ago thrown back in his face.

“No, you’re not. I was a dick for saying that. Look, maybe the spell didn’t fully work. Maybe we need to do something more with you. Or maybe you are human. I’m human. There are worse things to be.”

Cas kept staring out the window. “I feel like I don’t fit anywhere. I’m not a kid, I’m sure as hell not a hunter. And I know for a fact that I don’t want to be left in this shit-hole while you and Sam go off on hunts. I don’t fit your life, I don’t fit Sam’s…I don’t even fit my own. I’m just…lost.”

Dean knew everything hinged on this question but he was afraid to ask it. But if he cared anything at all for Cas, he knew he had to. “Cas, you have the gift of something Sammy and I never had at your age; you get to make a choice. What kind of life do you want? What do you want to do? Who do you want to be?”

Cas sighed and just breathed heavily for a few moments. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself for weeks. And I don’t know. If I knew, I’d just go do it, I guess. Since taking this vessel, I’ve only had one path. Now they spread out before me like infinite rays of light and I’m paralyzed by the choices. Free-will is…frightening.”

“Maybe that’s why people look to things like faith and structure…it helps to narrow things down a bit.”

“Maybe.”

“You said you weren’t a hunter. Is that because you don’t want to be?”

“I don’t know that either. I definitely know I’m not strong enough or skilled enough right now. Fighting monsters and demons is an easy thing when you have the powers of an angel. I’ve never even shot a gun as a regular human. As for the wanting…what kind of sane person wants it? Even you and Sam don’t want it. Not really. You just do it.”

“Remember when I told you about the time Balthazar sent us to another reality? Where Sammy and I were just characters in some TV show?”

Cas laughed. “Yeah, and I was some whiny stooge in bad sweaters?”

“Pretty much. When I looked at that guy’s life, with his prissy name and 10-foot aquarium…”

“Don’t forget the llama.”

“It was an alpaca and that was Sam, so fuck off.” Dean gave Cas a light shove on his shoulder. “But y’know, not once did I ever want to stay there and live that life. Never mind that neither of us could act, like, at all, but nothing was right. Living that life felt like wearing someone else’s skin. We couldn’t wait to get back to what was ours. Sure, hunting is a bitch of a life. But it’s our life. Yes, we were raised in it and for a long time, I felt forced into it. But the fact is, somewhere along the way, the life I have is the life I made. And anything else feels wrong. That’s what you have to do, Cas: figure out what feels right. And I don’t think that’s something you can just think about and go do. You have to experience your way into it.”

Cas leaned back against the seat and turned his head towards Dean. “Where do I even start?”

“Well, most kids start with school. You don’t have a diploma, but if I can pass the GED, you can pass it. From there, enroll in the community college.”

“You could enroll with me.”

“The hell I could. I am not going to college as an almost-40 year old. No fucking way”

Cas gave him a steady look. “I’m not really 19 you know. I’d be going as a Multi-Millennial.” 

Dean gave him a smile, “Yeah, but you look the part. There ain’t nobody whose gonna look at me and think ‘Twink’. You on the other hand…”

“It bugs you, doesn’t it? That I look like this.”

Dean swallowed and gave him a side-ways glance. “I’m just not used to it, is all. You look great, though you’d look better with a haircut. You’re getting to be as shaggy as Sammy.” Dean tossled Cas’ hair and Cas grabbed his arm, shoving it away.

“Quit it.”

“At least it’s clean.”

“What should I take?”

“In school? That’s a Sammy question. I got no clue. It all sounds boring as hell to me.”

“Alright, I’ll ask Sam. But you gotta teach me to shoot. I’m not gonna be left with my ass in the air if some monster follows you home.”

“Deal.” Dean turned the radio back up and took the next right that would lead them back home.

&&&&&&&

Passing the GED had been no problem for Cas and he and Sam were sitting at the kitchen table, looking through the course catalogue for North Sioux Falls Community College. Bobby pulled out a beer for each of them and went back to stirring the hash that was frying on the stove. Cas accepted the bottle with a nod. The craggy old man had relaxed a lot now that Cas was no longer a kid. None of them knew how old Cas’ vessel technically was now, but Dean had put 21 on the fake ID he’d made him, so he was fully legal in every way.

There’d been some debate about what to put as his last name. Jimmy’s last name had been Novak and while Cas didn’t feel any attachment to the name, he felt some guilt over the fact that it had been his vessel’s name, even if that was several apocalypses ago. Dean thought Winchester was fine, but Cas felt weird about that too, mostly because of Sam. He already knew there had been a bit of tension over which of them Dean was closest too, but that was from before the curse. Then as children, the angels had used Bobby’s when they had need of a surname. It was Sam who’d told Dean to just use Winchester and be done with it. Cas had agreed since Sam had given his blessing. So here he was, an official Winchester. 

Thing was, while he saw Sam as a brother, he definitely didn’t see Dean that way. The addition of full-human hormones and the accompanying teenage sex drive had thrust his feelings for Dean into overdrive. Cas had never put much thought into his angelic longing for Dean before. Dean was special, even God said so. Of course he’d held him with unique regard. As the weeks had passed, with each wet dream and fantasy-fueled, morning jack-off, he knew that his feelings for Dean were deep, primal, and right now, unquenchable. He only hoped he was hiding it well.

“You probably only want to take three courses to start, so you get the hang of it. You can go up to five next semester.” Sam had a blank piece of paper and was drawing columns on it. 

“A writing class, calculus and Intro to Psych are always good to start with. They’re like your basic, ‘Welcome to college!’ classes.” Cas flipped to those pages to read the descriptions.

“Be sure to sign him up for Women’s Studies, Sam. Right Cas?” Dean winked at him and Cas looked away quickly.

“Dean, Women’s Studies isn’t about picking up women. It’s pretty much the exact opposite of that.”

“Don’t really give a shit what it’s about. It’s the class that has the most girls right? Right?”

“Usually, but that’s…”

“So sign him up for that and quit being a cockblock. You’ll never get laid if you listen to Sammy.” Dean punched Cas’ arm as he headed over to get a beer from the fridge.

“Um, I’m gonna go read through these upstairs. Thanks for the suggestions, Sam.” Cas beat a hasty retreat. 

“You really shouldn’t do that to him.”

“Do what?” Dean asked as he sat down in the seat Cas had just vacated.

“You shouldn’t…” Sam ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t totally sure how to broach this subject with Dean or if it was something they should talk about in front of Bobby, but he was tired of the way they always danced around issues, so he decided to just go for it. 

“You shouldn’t presume Cas is straight.”

Dean choked on his beer. “I shouldn’t presume…of course he’s straight.”

“You don’t know that, Dean.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“Have you ever asked him?”

Dean threw his hand up, “Why should I…of course not. I just know.”

Sam crossed his arms, “No, you’re presuming you know.”

“This is bullshit Sam. I know the same way I know you and Bobby are straight. Bobby, you queer?”

“Not today.” Bobby gruffed as he kept cooking and trying to stay out of the conversation. He knew why Sam was doing this, but he definitely didn’t want to be a part of where this was gonna go.

“See? Why? You got something you wanna share with the class there, Sammy?”

Sam leaned forward over the table, “I don’t know Dean. You wanna share how you’d get food money when Dad was gone too long?”

Dean’s face froze and he glared hard at Sam, who held his gaze. Sam could see the tension in Dean’s jaw. This was something he’d always known but they’d never, ever, talked about. Bobby stood still, his back to the boys.

“Fuck you, Sam.” Dean shoved the table into his brother, got up and left out the kitchen door.

“That was a dick thing to say to him, Sam.” Bobby turned and looked down at him, arms crossed. 

“I know. I’m also pretty sure Cas is gay and Dean needs to quit with the macho crap.”

“Turnin’ tricks ain’t the same as bein’ gay you know. Dean did what he had to in order to survive. In order to help _you_ survive.”

“I know.” Sam nodded. 

Yeah, Sam knew what it meant when Dean would tell him to stay in the hotel while he went down to the truck stop penniless but came home with enough food to last for several days. He also knew for a fact that Dean didn’t always give blow-jobs for money. He knew because one hot summer day they were at the local pool swimming. Sam’d gotten out to get a sno-cone and realized he couldn’t find Dean, so he’d gone looking. He’d found him in the locker room with one of the boys he knew Dean worked with at the garage. The other boy was standing on one of the benches at the end of one of the last rows, his swim trunks down, fingers fisting in Dean’s hair as Dean sucked him off. The kid wasn’t much older than Dean and from the noises he made, Dean was clearly enjoying himself. Sam never told him what he’d seen. As a kid, he never gave much thought to if Dean was gay. Dean liked girls; Dean sucked cock. Both were just…Dean. When Sam went to college and his world expanded to include hanging out in the Bay Area when he was on break from Stanford, he came to understand what sexual orientations really were…and weren’t. It was one thing for Dean to give blow-jobs for cash when they were starving. It was another for him to blow a kid in a locker room just because. 

Once he’d realized this, he looked at his brother through a different lens. The way Dean would over-compensate when motel clerks made snide comments as they checked in or if someone hinted that he and Sam were lovers instead of brothers. That never bothered Sam, but it would really bother Dean.

And then there was Cas. Before the witch’s curse, the “Profound Bond” was definitely **not** only on Cas’ part. Dean was as obsessed with the angel as the angel was with him. Now that the curse was over and Cas was adult once more, he was pretty sure that obsession was as strong as ever. 

“I’m gonna go find Cas.”

“Alright. Dinner should be done in about 15.”

Sam nodded and headed for the attic.

“I like what you did up here.” Sam said as he reached the top of the staircase. Cas had strung white Christmas lights along the rafters and it gave the space a warm glow.

Cas was laying on his stomach, flipping through the course catalogue but clearly not reading it. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry Dean was a bit of a douche downstairs.”

Cas rolled onto his side. “He was just being Dean.”

“Can I, uh, you mind if I sit down?” Sam walked towards the bed and Cas motioned with his hand towards the desk chair. “Feel free.”

“Cas, I know it’s hard being, y’know, your age.” Sam tried to find a way into this conversation and it was harder than it had seemed in his head a few minutes ago.

“Sam, the one good thing about you is that you aren’t Dean. Just say whatever you want to say, huh?”

“Alright. Are you in love with Dean?” Cas closed his eyes and rolled over again, burying his face in the pillows.

“I’m not judging.” Sam said hastily. “It’s totally fine if you are, I mean, I don’t care if you’re gay. I just have been noticing…”

Cas lifted his head, “Does he know?”

“What?”

“Dean, you idiot. Does Dean think I’m in love with him?”

“Are you?”

“Sam.” Cas’ expression was almost pleading.

“I don’t know.” Sam answered honestly. “I mean, it’s not like your affection for him hasn’t always been there. And then you were a kid and he was the only one who could console you or that you would go to when you were hurt or crying. And now, well, I just noticed…”

“Arrrgh!” Cas buried his face in his pillow again.

“Dinner!” Bobby’s voice echoed up the stairs from the kitchen.

“C’mon, let’s just drop it for now. Dinner’s ready.”

Cas kept his face buried in the pillow and Sam had to strain to understand his muffled reply, “I’m never coming down again. This is so humiliating.”

Sam slapped him on the back. “Quit being so melodramatic. Nothing’s different than it was ten minutes ago.”

Cas turned his head, but stayed on his stomach. “Everything’s different. He won’t treat me the same anymore. Every look he gives me now, he’ll be…I can’t.” Cas turned away again.

Sam didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t his place to tell Cas about Dean’s past. But he also wasn’t sure how Dean would react. Dean had been over-compensating Cas’ sexuality the same way he did his own. His gut told him that Dean would love Cas no matter what, but he also knew that if Dean didn’t return Cas’ feelings, he would act strangely around him, which would make things uncomfortable for everyone. After all, Sam had never asked Dean about his sexual identity before tonight. He honestly didn’t know which way Dean would go.

“Alright. Come down when you’re ready.” As Sam reached the bottom of the staircase, Cas’ music clicked on, effectively drowning out all other sound.

 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked as he took his seat across the table from Bobby and Sam. 

“He’s not up for much company tonight I guess.” Sam said as he sat down. 

Bobby slid the pan with beef hash down towards Sam and passed the basket of cornbread to Dean. 

“He’s sure got his music blarin’. Must’ve been some talk you had with ‘im.”

“What’d you say to him?” Dean asked accusingly.

“Fuck off, Dean. He’s not up there because of me.”

“Right, like you haven’t been sticking your nose where it don’t belong today.”

“Look, you’re the one who was being a misogynistic asshole.”

“Whatever.” Dean grabbed the ketchup bottle and settled into eating in silence.

“If you think I’m wrong, ask him yourself.”

“What I think is that if Cas wanted us to know somethin’, he’d say somethin’.”

“Unless he’s too afraid of losing your favor that he keeps silent.” Sam countered.

“That’s just bullshit. Cas knows that whatever he is, or isn’t, we don’t care. He’s still family.”

“Which might be why he’s not talkin’.” Bobby offered. 

Both young men looked at him questioningly, so he continued. “Alright, look. When I was 14, the cutest girl in this whole damn down was Katie Singer. Long, chestnut hair, freckles across her nose, and she sang the national anthem at every school assembly pretty as a bird. And at every family dinner I avoided her like the plague because no matter how pretty she was or how hard I got, didn’t erase the fact that she was my Uncle’s stepdaughter. Sometimes, family ain’t exactly what you want in someone.”

Sam looked at Dean. Dean looked at his dinner. Clearly, the discussion was over.

 

It was close to 11pm when Sam poked his head into Dean’s room, where Dean sat on his bed, reading.

“You still pissed?” Sam asked, stepping into the doorway

“I don’t know. You still nosy?”

Sam shook his head, “I never thought you’d let something like this change how you saw Cas. I never took you to be that kind of guy.”

Dean closed his book hard. “And I never thought you’d be this fucking clueless, Sam. Look at me? I ain’t exactly the poster boy for stable relationships, am I? Turns out, the only person I’m able to spend the rest of my life with is you and that’s exactly as pathetic as it sounds. Cas, though, he’s stayed around longer than most, and even that’s been painfully inconsistent.” Dean stood up and took a few steps towards Sam. “I like having Cas around, man. And whatever I got to do to keep it that way, I’ll do. You got me?”

“And pushing him to be something he may not be accomplishes that how, exactly?”

“Because he’s a kid, that’s why! He doesn’t know what he is or wants or thinks. How can he possibly know if he likes girls or guys or whatever when the only people he’s ever really known are you and me?”

“Dean, listen to me. Never, at any point, did I need to have sex with a guy or fall in love with a guy to know I’m straight. Never. I just knew.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t.”

“I know. Which is rooted in a whole lot of shit that you just gotta deal with. But your shit isn’t Cas’ and it’s not fair to put that on him. Cas is gay and that’s just a fact. So stop being a dick and let him know you are OK with it.”

Dean looked at him, surprise and doubt wrestling on his face. “How do you know?”

“Because I asked.” And Sam left him standing alone in his room.

&&&&&&&

“Cas? You ready to go?” Dean hollered up the stairwell, trying to be heard over the music. Cas’ head leaned down enough that he could see it from the top of the steep staircase.

“Go where?”

“We were gonna go find you some decent clothes. School starts next week.”

“What’s wrong with what I have?”

“You wear nothing but my old t-shirts, for one thing and I’d like some of them back. Plus, you should dress like how the other kids dress, not like you’re a refugee from a junkyard.”

“I am a refugee from a junkyard.” Cas snarked.

“But you don’t gotta look it. Now come on.” Dean walked off. Cas knew it would only make Dean pissed if he didn’t go, though he still felt like this was stupid. He liked wearing Dean’s old clothes, though he could never tell him why. Plus, he didn’t have the first clue what current twenty-somethings wore. What if they dressed like shit? He heard the Impala’s engine roar to life, so he quickly grabbed one of Dean’s old flannel shirts and raced down the stairs.

As they drove along the road that took them into Sioux Falls proper, Dean asked, “You got on clean underwear? You wearing the boxer-brief’s Sam bought you or those white ones that Bobby got?”

“What? Why the hell are you asking me that?”

“You’re gonna be trying on clothes, numbnuts. Did you put on clean underwear?”

“Not entirely sure that it matters, but yeah, I grabbed some from the dryer before I took a shower this morning.”

Dean nodded and kept driving.

“Why did you want to know what kind?”

“What kind what?” Cas thought he detected a hint of nervousness as Dean moved his hands on the steering wheel.

“Underwear. You asked me which kind I was wearing. Why would it matter.”

“Oh, well, you’re, y’know, gonna be out in public and I’d hate for you to be embarrassed, is all.”

“Am I going to be trying on the clothes in the middle of the store?” Cas asked, tilting his head towards Dean as he rested against the back of the seat.

Dean scoffed, “No, they have changing rooms.”

“So who’s gonna be seeing me in my underwear exactly?”

“Uh, the uh, um, oh the sales person! Yeah, the sales person y’know, they help bring you different sizes and stuff.”

“Isn’t that why you’re coming with me?”

“Me? Noooo, I’m just the driver. See? Driving.” Dean focused hard on the road in front of him.

Cas smiled. Dean’s nervous evasiveness was giving him a rush of…something. It felt like they were on a runaway stagecoach and he’d suddenly been handed the reigns. It made him feel daring.

“I’m wearing the boxer-briefs. The black ones with the orange band.” Cas looked at Dean, a grin on his face. Dean glanced at him and then looked away. That only made him smile broader.

“Good. Good. Those are, y’know…”

“You think the sales guy will appreciate them? The band is a little bright.” As proof, Cas hitched his thumb into his waistband and pulled downward. Dean’s jeans were loose on him, so they pulled down easily. But he lifted his t-shirt up as well, exposing his hip and waist.

Dean looked down, then up at Cas’ face and back down again. Cas saw him lick his lips. “No, they’re, uh, fine.” Dean’s face was blushing and that made Cas’ heart dance in his chest.

“If you’re sure.” He withdrew his thumb and slowly tucked his t-shirt back in. 

 

Shopping with Dean was actually kind of fun. He would park himself in a chair outside the dressing room and either nod or shake his head whenever Cas came out in something new. Cas quickly came to understand what Dean liked and didn’t and was surprised to learn that it wasn’t what he wore. On Cas, Dean preferred chinos to denim and soft, thin, sweater-shirts or button downs to Henley’s and flannel. He did insist on getting Cas boots like his over the Converse Cas preferred. “No matter what scrape we find ourselves, you gotta protect your feet.” So he’d relented.

After paying for everything, Cas started like they were gonna head back to the car, but Dean pulled his arm the opposite direction. “I honestly don’t need anything more Dean.”

“Clothes no. But I’m not taking that hair for another day.” Dean placed his hand in the small of Cas’ back and pushed him towards the barber shop a few blocks down. Cas decided to see what Dean liked here too. After all, it was just hair. It’d grow out if he didn’t like it. 

Again, Dean surprised him by describing a cut that was longer than Cas would have expected given Dean’s own hairstyle. It was shorter on the edges and back, but a bit longer on top so it kept some of the natural curl. But even on the sides, it was still longer than anywhere on Dean’s head. The barber showed him how to use some mousse to make the hair on top not look like a hot mess.

“He cleans up pretty good don’t ya think?” The barber asked Dean as he turned Cas around in the chair.

“Yup.” Dean agreed. Cas smiled at him and winked. Dean gave an almost bashful nod and turned away, walking up to the cashier to pay.

The barber gave him a nudge and whispered, “That’s one sexy sugar-daddy you got yourself.” Cas laughed nervously. Was he being that obvious again? _Shit_

“Ready Cas?”

“Yeah.” He turned to the barber. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” The barber blew him a small kiss and Cas jumped a little. He turned in a slight panic and followed Dean quickly out the door. 

 

They were about half way back in town when Cas asked, “Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“And you have to be honest, even if you don’t want to be.”

“Why do you think I wouldn’t be honest?”

“Just promise you will be, OK?”

“What, do you wanna cross pinkies or something? I’m always honest.”

Cas rolled his eyes, “Good thing you’re not made of wood. You’d put a hole in the windshield with your nose.”

“Just ask your fucking question Cas.” Dean got impatient whenever Cas got snarky.

“Does everyone think I’m gay?”

Dean looked over to see the expression on Cas’ face. He looked matter-of-fact, if a bit nervous.

“I don’t think it matters what anyone thinks.”

“That's not an answer to the question.”

“Why do you care? People think what they think and you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

Cas pushed his head back hard against the headrest. “That’s not an answer either.”

“It’s the answer I got. Don’t like it, ask a better question.” Dean glanced over at him again, then back on the road.

“Do you think I’m gay?”

“Cas, what I think or what Sam thinks…none of that matters. You shouldn’t give a damn about any of that. The only person whose opinion of you that matters is your own. What do you think?”

Cas was quiet, his eyes closed, head still leaning back against the headrest. “I think…that I’m gay.”

Dean pulled the Impala off to the side of the road and killed the engine. He turned, laying his right arm across the back of the seat. “Cas, look at me.” Cas opened his eyes and turned his head. “Whoever you are, whatever you want to be, I’m proud of you. Capiche?”

“Yeah, I capiche.”

“Good.” Dean turned back to start the car. 

“Are you gay?” Dean froze. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. Finally Cas said, “Shit, forget I asked. Sorry.” He opened the car door and got out. The slam of the door seemed to snap Dean out of his mental block and he realized Cas was walking down the road towards home. He jumped out of the car. 

“Cas! Get back here! CAS!”

Without turning around, he hollered, “Just go will you? The walk won’t kill me.”

Dean ran up and grabbed him by the elbow. “Cas, stop, please. Look, I just…you surprised me, OK.”

“It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Like hell it’s none of your business. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re family. Everything I do is your business.”

 _Best Friend. Family._ These words hit Cas like a punch, making him feel more humiliated. He turned away again.”

“Dammit Cas, stop walking away.” Dean put himself in front of Cas, placing both is hands on the sides of Cas’ neck, forcing him to look at him. “I’m not gay.” Cas looked down and tried to pull away but Dean held firm. “But I’m not straight either.” Cas stilled.

“Look, my sexuality is…complicated. I’ve had sex when I wanted to and sex when I didn’t. To me, sex can feel great or be very painful and ugly. That makes it a difficult thing a lot of the time. And that look you’re giving me right now is exactly why I don’t talk about it.”

Cas blinked, “I’m sorry, I just…I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. It’s just…there’s things you don’t know and I’m not sure I’m ready to tell, so…”

Cas was giving him a piercing look that he recognized but hadn’t seen in a very long time…not since before the witch’s curse. “What happened to you?”

Dean dropped his arms. “That’s a question with no good answer. Some of it, I’ve tried very hard to forget and if you care for me at all, you won’t ask me to remember. Other stuff, I’ll tell you, so you can understand. But not here on the side of the road, OK? Can we just go home? We can build a fire and drink a lot of whisky.”

Cas nodded. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. C’mon.”

&&&&&&&

Once they got back, Cas put away his new clothes and started sorting through Dean’s old ones. There were some he really didn’t want to give up and he hoped Dean would let him keep them. He figured he’d wash the others and see if Dean noticed. He had just reached the bottom of the attic stairs when Dean came around the corner.

“I was just headed down to do your laundry.” Cas held the basked up a little higher.

“Mind if I come along?” Dean held up the whisky bottle and two glasses.

Together, they headed down into the basement where the washer and dryer were outside the panic room.

While Cas tossed clothes in the washer, Dean poured two glasses. As Cas started the machine, Dean handed one to him. “I thought you wanted to sit by the fire.”

“Yeah, I kinda got to thinking that I really didn’t want Sam or Bobby to overhear this conversation, so how would you feel about going in there?” Dean swung the bottle towards the panic room. There wasn’t much in it besides a bed and a table, a whole lot of warding sigils and iron shackles.

“Not the most comfortable room in the house.”

“Normally, no. But come see.” Dean walked, motioning for Cas to follow.

When Cas looked inside, the bed had been pushed to the side, a giant floor rug with two large bean bags were in the middle. The room was surprisingly warm too. “When did you…?”

“It wasn’t me. Sammy’s been coming down here for years when he needed to get away from you rascals…or me. The soundproofing meant he could read in peace.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, he wanted it that way.” Dean closed the heavy door with an echoing thud.

Cas set his glass on the floor while he got comfortable in one of the bean bags. He pulled off his boots and socks and let his toes wriggle through the warm shag of the carpet.  
Dean also took off his shoes as well as a couple layers, leaving him in just a Zeppelin t-shirt and his jeans. He laid down, using the bean bag to support his head and torso. It meant that Cas was now looking down on him, so Cas scooted lower. 

“You really do clean-up nice, you know that?” Dean’s eyes twinkled at him and Cas smiled.

“The barber called you a ‘sexy, sugar-daddy’.”

“Did he now?” Dean’s expression was teasing.

“Freaked me out, actually. Here, I thought everyone’s been seeing us as friends or maybe even father and son…”

Dean bristled, “I’m not _that_ much older than you.”

“Dean, tell me your story.”

Dean swirled the amber fluid in his glass. “Hard to know where to begin really. You want the good stuff or the bad first?”

“Whatever you want to give me.” Cas shifted forward, watching and listening.

“My first sex, like at all, was in a truck stop bathroom. I’d asked this driver if he had any cash ‘cause Sammy and I had spent all that Dad’d left us. He told me that he didn’t just give it away, but if I was willing to work for it, he’d give me $20. That was, like a huge amount of cash to me at the time. I was 11, Sammy was 6.” Dean was staring into his glass, then downed the whisky and continued. “I followed him into the bathroom and he told me to go into one of the stalls. I looked at him like he was crazy and said, ‘I don’t have to go.’ The guy laughed at me and told me to just go in and sit down. That’s when I freaked out.” Dean gave a sad laugh and looked up at Cas. His eyes were dry but the pain was etched on his face.

“You know, for a moment, I was scared he wanted to pay to watch me take a shit. Like, that was the worst thing I could imagine at that point.” Dean shook his head at his own stupidity.

“Why would an 11 year-old think anything else?”

“I suppose.” Dean rubbed his hand over his face, like he was trying to wipe away the memory, but he kept going. “I walked in and the guy came in right behind me. I can still hear the latching of the door. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, pushing me down until I was sitting on the toilet. I tried to ask him a question but he just shushed me as he started undoing his pants. Didn’t take long for me to figure out what he wanted me to do.”

“Did he give you the money?” Cas asked

“Yeah, though he only gave me $15 because he said I was ‘Shit at it.’ Like I’m supposed to be a blowjob expert at 11. But he told me that if I got good at it, 'whores charge as much as $40 for an excellent blow'. It didn’t happen right away. But eventually, we got desperate enough that I made sure I was very, very good.”

“Shit.” Cas said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah.”

“How often did you have to do that?”

“Not that much really. A couple times a year, a hunt would keep Dad away longer than he meant. By the time I was 16, I just didn’t even worry about it. I knew I could make us plenty of cash in just a couple hours if I had to.”

“When was the first time you had sex with a woman?”

“Ah, that… that was a process.” Dean grabbed the bottle and poured them each another couple fingers. “Her name was Rhonda Hurley. I had way more bravado than I had knowledge back then. I could make-out just great, but beyond that, I only knew what girls looked like from the titty-mags Dad brought home, and I sure as hell didn’t know what to do with the parts. Rhonda, though, she knew. I was like this toy she loved to play with. A happy, willing toy, for sure, but still a toy. Hers was the first everything; first pussy, first ass, first boob fuck…you name it, she was into it. I’ve sometimes wondered where she got her drive, since she was only a year older than I was. Like, had she been abused or something, because she just had no fear when it came to sex. Kinda like I do now. I think that sometimes, when you’re pushed into sex early, you just have to figure out ways to deal with it. ‘Cause the truth is, it does feel good, or it can. And that’s so much better than when it doesn’t. So you want it to feel good as much as possible, I guess.”

“That makes sense to me.” Cas offered

“That’s good. It only makes sense to me about half the time. Anyway, Rhonda and I, it was like somehow we both knew that we’d been abused by men and this was our way of making the best of it. She got to have all the sex on her terms and I got to experience sex with a girl in every way possible. She was a good teacher and believe me, I was a very willing pupil. Because of her, I learned how to seduce women. Which also meant I could turn tricks with women. Men just want an orgasm. Women want to feel beautiful, sexy, desired...”

“And are generally less violent.”Cas added.

“For sure.” Dean agreed.

All of this was making Cas hurt in new ways. Not just for Dean’s experiences, but for what this meant for the two of them. “Did you ever…um, were there any good…” Cas struggled to ask the question that loomed.

Dean reached out and laid a hand on Cas’ knee. “I did. About a year after Rhonda, we were living in Northern California for a while. I had basically dropped out by then, about 17, and the town we were in had a garage, so I got myself a job there. The owner’s son was named Bruce. He’d grown up in his dad’s shop, loved the Stones and was rebuilding a ’67 Galaxie almost from the frame. His dad had gotten it as a junker and Bruce would work on it after the shop closed. When I came around, we’d work on it together. Dad was mostly around then, so I could take off and not worry about Sam. We’d blast music and work on that car. I smuggled in beer and it was just as perfect as I could imagine. One night, I’d been sanding rust off the under-frame when one of the sparks caught my shirt on fire. I didn’t notice right away, so it was a pretty decent burn by the time I did. Bruce yanked me out from under the car and ripped my shirt off. I got a scar right…” Dean pulled his right sleeve up and pointed to the bottom of his armpit. “Oh right. You took away all the scars, ‘cept…” His hand went unconsciously to his left shoulder.

Cas felt a twinge of guilt. Rebuilding Dean’s body had taken huge effort, but he hadn’t thought about what those little scars and blemishes might have meant. “Sorry.” Cas whispered

“Shut up, I don’t care. I’d just forgotten. Anyway, that was the first time I made out with a dude. Sex with Bruce was totally different from truckers who just wanted to get off before another 8 hours on the road. Bruce and I, we connected. But the truth is, I haven’t had an actual relationship with a guy since him. Haven’t really had much in the way of relationship with women either, to be honest. I just have a lot of sex. And most of the time, sex is less risky when it’s with women, so that’s what I have.”

“Which do you like better?” 

“It’s really not a matter of better. But if I’m gonna jack off, I think about women for the most part. Sometimes, I, well, there’s certain sensations you can only get from a dick in your ass, and sometimes, I crave that.”

Cas leaned back, overwhelmed and lightheaded from alcohol. “I don’t even know what I crave. Other than you.” He rolled in the bean bag, and looked at Dean.

“I’m the only human you’ve connected to, Cas. It makes sense that you’d want…”

“No,” Cas sat up, “you don’t get to do that. This isn’t some mild, teenage, curiosity. It’s not like that weird book about the kids shut up in the attic and they start experimenting with each other because there isn’t anyone else. I’ve felt this for you for a long time. Before the curse, before everything. _This isn’t curiosity._ ” Cas gazed intently at Dean and spoke with a forcefulness that prickled Dean’s memories of the first year he met Cas. But whether he was talking to Cas then or Cas now, there were just things the angel didn’t know; couldn’t know.

“Cas, when was the last time you fucked anyone? Huh?”

“Fucking and loving aren’t the same thing. You said that yourself. You think I need to have fucked someone to know if I love them?” Cas was getting angry now. Why was Dean doing this? 

“No, that’s not what I think. But you don’t know what you don’t know. So you can’t tell me that curiosity doesn’t play a role here. You have feelings for me. I have them for you. Sex could be a very natural way to express those feelings. But for me, sex also comes with baggage. Baggage you don’t have. And that means I’m not so willing to risk what really matters to me.”

Cas looked at him, eyes searching. “I don’t understand.”

“I know. And part of why you don’t understand is because you’ve never had sex”

“I don’t just want sex Dean! God, if all I wanted was sex, I’d go back to that bar you took me to. Remember that?”

Dean chuckled, “Oh yeah. God it felt good to laugh like that.”

Cas got to his knees, leaned over and put his hands on Dean’s thighs. “It felt good because we were together. It felt good because it was us. Isn’t that the point?” Cas’ hand moved slowly up and down Dean’s thighs. Dean stayed still, his face glued to Cas’

“I know it’s gonna feel good Cas. It’s gonna feel amazing. I just want you to know what you’re getting into with me. ‘Cause _that_ isn’t’ always amazing. And I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t” Cas closed the distance and kissed him, softly at first, and then with more hunger. Dean’s hand came up and fingers threaded through Cas’ hair, holding him close. Lips and tongues danced for several minutes before Cas backed away slightly. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“I know.” Dean leaned forward, easing Cas down onto his back, his body spreading over him, hand running up and down from knee to chest. Cas let himself relax and just feel. 

There were lips on his neck, sucking gently. One leg was pinned between Dean’s while the other was being pushed apart by Dean’s palm. The same palm that was smoothing over his inner thigh, to outer, and back up, ghosting over his crotch and up, pulling his shirt out of his waistband and under. The sensation of skin against skin caused him to take in a deep breath and at the same time, Dean sucked at his neck a little harder. 

Then there was a slight pinch at his left nipple and he gasped. Dean gentled and rubbed is softly. “Which do you like better?” He pinched and pulled on the nipple, followed by a gentle brush of his fingers in demonstration. Cas was lost in both.

“I don’t know…both…all of it.” Dean answered by kissing and sucking at Cas’ ear while pinching harder on his nipple. The combination of pain at his nipple and intense pleasure at his ear made his breath catch and his hips rock up. Dean answered by forcing his own hips downward, controlling the thrust.

“Believe me, Babe, we can do plenty of both.” Dean whispered into his year, which tickled and made Cas long for a harder pull on his nipple to counter the sensation. Instead, Dean leaned back and pulled Cas’s shirt upwards. Cas sat up and yanked it over his head. Dean did likewise. 

Cas had seen Dean without shirt before, but somehow, seeing him that way right now, was intensely arousing. He ran a hand up Dean’s belly and over his pectoral. As he did, he felt the tiny nub against his palm and came back down to it, rubbing circles with the pad of one finger. He couldn’t help but notice that Dean’s nipple was a bigger than his own. He rolled it between his fingers and Dean could sense his interest. 

“They get bigger the more you mess with them.” Cas looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Dean tugged at Cas’ nipple in demonstration. “The more you do to them, the bigger they get. You ever see pictures of a woman who’s breastfed a couple kids?”

“Where would I see a picture like that?” Cas asked incredulously.

“I don’t know. Point is, the more you suck and tug on them, the bigger they get. I mean, ours don’t get like a woman’s but they do get…bigger.” He glanced downward and then back at Cas.

Cas kept playing with Dean’s nipple, adding his other hand, working them both. He watched Dean’s face. He’d lick his lips whenever something felt really good and Cas would repeat whatever he’d just done. “You like this.” Cas whispered.

“Yeah. I do this to myself a lot, actually.” 

“Am I doing it right?” Cas kept massaging, his eyes intently on Dean’s face. 

“You can pull harder. Or use your mouth.”

Cas put his mouth over one and sucked. He ran his tongue over the flat top and smiled at the hitch in Dean’s breathing. “Yeah, that’s good. Harder though.” Cas sucked as hard as he could and felt Dean pull away, so he let go. 

“No, hold on to it.” Cas opened his eyes and saw that Dean was pulling on his other nipple, stretching it far out. “You’re not going to hurt me, Ok? And if you did, I’d stop you. Alright?”

Cas nodded and started suckling again, as hard as he could, letting his teeth scrape against the sides of the nipple. Dean’s breathing got faster. Cas placed one hand at Dean’s crotch, rubbing over the hard, denim-encased shaft. He felt Dean’s hand lay over the top of his own, stilling the motion, but squeezing instead. Cas took the hint and he pushed his fingers in, grabbing Dean’s cock as best he could through the thick material, while he sucked and pulled at his nipple with his mouth. 

Dean gently pulled on Cas’ chin, tilting his face up and kissing him once more. Cas laid back again and Dean followed, straddling him this time. Cas could feel Dean’s hard on against his own and groaned as he thrust up. Dean put a hand on Cas’ hip, stilling him. “Let’s just focus on one thing at a time, huh?” 

Cas gave him a dazed look, “No, I want everything, all of it, all of you…”

Dean gave a bit of a laugh. “Ah, the desperation of youth.”

“What? Like you don’t want this?” Cas thrust upwards again to accentuate his point, but stopped when he saw the serious look on Dean’s face.

“You said you wanted more than just sex; more than just an orgasm.”

“But I didn’t say I **didn’t** want an orgasm! Can’t we have both? Please?” Cas knew he sounded whiny, but the need inside him was desperate, like it was going to erupt out of his chest. 

Dean ran his hands gently along the side of his face, caressing him tenderly. “Cas, this needs to be different for me. Do you get that? Can you understand? It’s OK, if you can’t. I won’t stop you from getting your needs met, however you choose to do that. But with me, we gotta do this at my pace or I can’t do it at all.”

Cas relaxed. “I don’t want to do this with anyone else. I never have. Whatever you need it’s fine.”

Dean rolled back, laying on the floor next to him. “I told you. Baggage.”

Cas reached out and took his hand. “And I told you that I’d help you carry whatever you can’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Me either.” Dean raised their hands and kissed the back of Cas’. “I am starving though. Wanna cheeseburger?”

Cas laughed and sat up. “Yeah, I do. What’s more, I’m driving.” Cas was up and out the door. 

“The hell you are!” Dean scrambled after him but Cas was already starting up the stairs.

“That’s what you get for being slow, old man.” Cas hollered down as he grabbed Baby’s keys off the hook and ran out the door. Dean, wasn’t as slow as Cas accused and he caught up to him at the car door, pinned him against the frame and wrestled the keys from his fingers. They both stood there, breathless.

“If you wanted to drive so bad, you should’ve just said so.” Cas teased.

“You’re impossible.” Dean chuckled

“You love it.”

“Still bigger than you and not above tanning your ass if you don’t shape up.” Dean threatened, though without any heat.

Cas squirmed a little, “Last time you did that, it wasn’t much fun.”

Dean stepped back. “There, see. Baggage. Our lives ain’t ever gonna be normal.”

Cas reached out and pulled Dean close again. “I’m a fallen angel and you’re a hunter. Why in heaven or hell would we be normal? So, we'll just figure it out as we go. Didn’t you tell me that was the only way for someone to experience life anyway?”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright. So let’s start with you taking me to Scooter’s on an honest date and you can tell me how my pool shots suck.” Cas stepped out and went to the passenger side.

As they settled into their seats, Dean said, “It’s not so much that your shots suck; it’s that you’re not setting them up correctly.”

Off they drove, Thin Lizzy blasting on the radio.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't list Willow Rosenberg as a character the same way I didn't list Faith in the last one. I mostly made that choice because this isn't a cross-over fic and didn't want anyone confused. In my head though, if Wesley could be a "rogue demon hunter" then hunters are a part of Whedonverse and vice versa.


End file.
